


The Aftermath of the Progenitor's Death

by Shane_for_Wax



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 03:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16548101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shane_for_Wax/pseuds/Shane_for_Wax
Summary: The night following the successful defense of Kamino thanks to the Alpha ARCs who were ‘unfrozen’ from stasis.





	The Aftermath of the Progenitor's Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is from the point of view of an entire squad of original characters, so don't worry that you don't recognize the names at all. Only 17 and Spar are canon. References are made to the Clone Wars comics arc "The Defense of Kamino" as well as the Republic Commando series.

_They’re just kids!_ An opinion not shared universally by the Cuy’Val Dar. That they were just boys, and shouldn’t be treated like they were by the Kaminoans. Perhaps the better term would be ‘just men' or 'just human’. 

But the overall idea was that they shouldn’t just be treated like living weapons, to be stored in an armory for a later use. They were living, breathing, humans. They deserved so much better.

Coming out of stasis after a short time was hard enough, but being in it for more than a week or so? It was a shock to the system. 

Sheres could remember stumbling out of his chamber then promptly falling to all fours and throwing up the only thing in his stomach– bile and the tiny bits of the breakfast he had had before being put into stasis. The Kaminoans hadn’t told any of them that’s where they were going so of course they had had breakfast even though it was rarely a good idea to eat before being put into stasis or carbonite. 

He could hear the klaxon, the warning of invasion. Kamino was under attack so there was little time to get acclimated to the new galaxy that the Alphas woke up to. 

Hyran, Nas, and Cyclo exited their own chambers. Hyran and Nas reacted about the same way Sheres had, but Cyclo managed to at least stay on his feet as he too threw up the only contents of his stomach. 

Seventeen was already getting strapped into his armor, and Sheres could see the anger etched into his face and glinting in eyes. They all knew the score by now. They knew what Jango had told them. He had prepared them for this situation, though they had all hoped it wouldn’t happen. 

There wasn’t much talking except to ask a brother if they were all right or needed help with their armor. If they talked too much eventually they would start talking about the lies and manipulation and wondering what day it was, what week it was. 

It was Cyclo who had asked the question on all their minds (if only, perhaps, to spare Sheres from bringing it up):  _Where’s Jango?_

The Kaminoans could only tell them that he had fallen in battle. There was no time to mourn, they had to get  _moving_. 

“Where are you going?!” Sheres called out when he saw Seventeen going the  _wrong shabla way_. 

“Following orders,” he had responded without turning around, securing his helmet into place. 

Sheres moved to follow but Hyran and Nas both grabbed his shoulders. They had their own orders, too. They had to get into place. They had to be  _ready_.

_But he’ll kill them…_  he thought to himself in dismay. Not right away, of course. They had to be sure there was no other way. But they would all fall back and join Seventeen of course. They had their orders. Jango’s orders. 

_They grow up loyal to the Republic or they don’t grow up at all_. 

* * *

 

 

By the time that Sheres and his brothers got to the data center their helmets had gotten so overloaded from the sounds of battle that they had to switch to their own private short distance comm channel. 

Sheres clambered up onto a higher floor in the gigantic data center, easily getting into place and setting up his rifle into sniper mode. Hyran took his place on a shelving unit on the first floor. Killing floor, they didn’t even need to speak to get into positions. They had trained for this, drilled over and over. 

As they sat waiting they could hear explosions that sounded so far away and then blaster fire just a little closer. Cyclo, as the squad leader, would cycle between the main Alpha ARC channel and the private one, sometimes offering a sitrep. 

The whole time Sheres couldn’t help but pray to the _Manda_ that Seventeen would not jump the gun, that the clones still in training or gestating would be saved, that they would repel the invasion to what had been home for ten years. 

Sweat from adrenaline trailed slowly down his face and the back of his neck but he ignored it, letting it trail down the rest of the way to be whisked away by his body glove. Every minute that ticked by felt more like an hour. He could hear his brothers just barely shifting positions to keep blood flow going, they couldn’t afford a limb falling asleep. 

Even though the assignment seemed to be below a squad of Alpha ARCs, Jango had not seen it that way. After all, the rest that didn’t have possible little brother execution in their orders were taking part in the battle to repel the Separatist forces. And T’ad squad were all too happy to follow Jango’s orders even after his death. The orders were sound, none could come up with an argument against. The information was too sensitive to leave to regular white jobs. It also wasn't the only order given by Jango that the Alphas would follow to the letter after his death.

So of course it was a twofold relief when the all-clear sounded. It had taken mere dozens of minutes but it felt like much longer than that.

Unfortunately that didn’t mean things were peaceful. The Alphas all had to face the fact that Jango was gone, their progenitor and training sergeant was gone. And the galaxy had exploded into war months before they were reactivated. 

Even Sheres had a lot of anger towards the ones who had made such a decision. They were grown men, human beings, absolutely independently sentient. And they had been stored away like nerf for the winter months. 

For most of them it gave them a perfectly good reason to be as self-sufficient as possible, to trust slowly. Others did not change their MO a single bit. 

 

* * *

  

 

 

> _Sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to neatly sum up what’s happened that day. Sometimes you do everything right, everything exactly right and still you feel like you failed. Sometimes the day just… **ends.**_ -Edward Allen Bernero (Criminal Minds)

The defense was a success, but they had no one to really report their success to. Beyond that, they didn’t even feel like they had fully participated in the defense. Some of them still felt woozy from being reactivated. It had not been intended by Jango for them to be in stasis, much less for more than a month. The longer in stasis, the sicker you could be when you finally got out. 

Seventeen was seemingly one of the few not to suffer any horrible side effects for longer than a few minutes. He had been perfectly fine during the defense, though some of his brothers had felt nausea the whole time. 

Sheres was quiet, contemplative, as he looked around him at the bunks that held his brothers. The ones still alive. But he thought on the ones who weren’t alive anymore. More of Jango’s sons gone to join him in the _Manda_ , despite Sheres’s best efforts as one of the few medics able to keep their head and stomach under control enough to rush back and forth. To say nothing of the fact a couple had been instant deaths. 

He should feel proud. He should feel a lot of positive happy things. But all he could focus on was the distinct lack of a man in blue and silver _beskar’gam_. Their father. Their training sergeant. Their progenitor. Their defender. And there the Alphas were, some of the last vestiges of his mostly unmodified genetic line. They had always known there would come a time they would be far apart from him, but they had never thought he would  _die_  this soon. It should have been them dying much sooner than him. 

Sighing, Sheres lowered down on a bunk that wasn’t his. It was Spar’s. Spar had been the first ‘casualty’. It was an open secret with the Alphas that Spar wasn’t dead. If only Sheres could believe that was the case with Jango. 

He could hear Seventeen directing clean up and having others make sure the armory was in a proper condition after the fight. For Seventeen, nothing had really changed. They all had their orders, Jango’s death notwithstanding. 

All while Sheres sat on a bunk that had remained unused for months on end and would most likely see no more use except as a seat. 

For once in his life, Seventeen didn’t see any reason to ride Sheres about anything. Despite evidence to the contrary, Seventeen did actually care. He just did it in his own way, like leaving Sheres alone to grieve the way they had been taught. Many others would be doing the same once the adrenaline faded and the feeling of ‘by the  _Manda_  we lived’ died away. 

Sheres rubbed at the scar on his face as he stared dully at the helmet at his feet. Point of clarification, at the  _jaig_  eyes on the helmet. Painted on by Jango himself. Before Jango had died, Sheres probably would not have cared about needing to swap helmets or get new ones later down the line. But now? Now he couldn’t imagine upgrading or replacing because of the connection with Jango. 

It was going to be just as hard coming to grips with the fact they had missed  _months_  of the war, of history. They were simultaneously older and younger than many of the other clones. They were…

They were  _lost_  but they would find a way. They had to. It was in their DNA, in the most literal way. A Fett always found his way through the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> I combined three one shots of mine into one as they all follow along a very short timeframe. This is the result. I hope it didn't sound too stunted.


End file.
